Abysswalker in Drangleic
by Tokyo Express
Summary: After what he believed to be his own demise, Knight Artorias finds himself in Drangleic. Now that he is completely alone, he must embark on a new journey.
1. Chapter 1

On the grey circular altar of a moonlit field an armored figure stirred from deep unconsciousness. The soft rustle of a gentle breeze flowing through blades of tall emerald grass filled his ears as reality slowly began to set in.

The unforgiving and cold surface of solid grey stone pressed against his face as he lay semi conscious, only the slight warmth of his azure hood provided some minuscule form of temporary relief.

Slowly his eyelids began to crack open and the far away haze of a distant light filled his vision. The light was entrenched between two black masses, a small crack in a large formation of stone. It was strangely beautiful and haunting.

As his eyes slid open completely, he was able to see what his other senses heard and felt.

A moonlit field filled with high grass surrounded him. He was indeed laying on some sort of circular altar. In the distance, completely vertical formations of rocks lined the background.

Slowly he began to rise, his silver armor clanking slightly as he did. As he rose he kept his head turning back and forth to survey his surroundings. A single thought came to his mind.

This was not Ooliciale.

In a slight panic he frantically took in his surrounding.

Moonlit field, tall grass, circular altar.

This was most certainly not Ooliciale.

Then he realized something, without hesitation he began to move his left arm.

A glance down showed it was indeed working, only the armor was slightly damaged.

_'How?'_ He thought to himself.

He stood there in complete silence as he began to absorb everything. The wind then picked up slightly and the tattered azure hood and cape the covering the top portion of his silver armor fluttered. The black plume adorning the top of his helm was also lifted up in the wind.

A slight rustle in the grass signaled to him that he was not alone.

As he began to set his gaze upward, he caught a slight glimpse of his great sword leaning on a nearby column and within hesitation he grabbed it. Curiously his shield was nowhere to be found. The reassuring weight of his weapon brought great comfort to the armored being as he looked up to an approaching figure.

A _Hollow_.

A Hollow clad in red slowly began to approach him with a sword drawn. A snarl was on it's face.

The man in the azure cape suppressed a snort. A mere Hollow would be unable to harm him. It provided him a brief form of amusement in all his confusion.

Slowly the red clad hollow came nearer.

In a flash of movement, the man in azure struck. A single plunge straight into the chest cavity followed by a quick upward slash bisected the head of the Hollow vertically, leaving a rotting corpse in the grass.

The man kept his gaze on the fallen Hollow before redirecting it to his weapon.

It was a great sword, a weapon that was generally swung with two hands, yet he could wield his with one.

His own weapon could be considered a deadly work of art. The blade was unbreakable and was blessed in the holy flames of his home kingdom's forge. It gleamed silver with a slight tint of blue in the moonlight.

His thoughts drifted back to his current location and he then re found himself in his previous confusion.

In his mind, images flashed in his head rapidly and replayed a single scene multiple times.

_The Abysswalker knelt on one knee as he gazed at his impending doom. His armor was broken, his sword nearly corroded, and his pure soul was beginning to corrupt to black. He was finished._

_The steady thuds of footsteps followed by as of shaking of the earth beneath. Crimson eyes emerged though the darkness, serving slightly as a light house between the Abysswalker and his doom._

_In the very back corners of his mind, the whispers of the taint he dedicated his life fighting began to remind him of his failures._

_The images of all those he failed flashed through his mind. Thousands of corrupted citizens, followed by legions of knights clad in silver armor, three of his fellow close friends, two trusted companions, and his lord who ruled the sun. They all looked upon him in disappointment before fading._

_Suddenly the thuds stop and the source of his doom looked down upon him._

_The visage of a creature snarling down at him in what seemed like smug triumph. It's crimson eyes narrowing slightly as it looked down at its victim._

_It knew it had won._

_The Abysswalker could only watched as the beast raised it's staff and unholy black energy began to coalesce at the tip of it._

_He couldn't move as all energy had been sapped out of him, it felt as if strong arms had kept him root in place. He could only glare back at the creature in defiance before his expression became one of grim acceptance as he watched the staff come down._

_Suddenly his vision was filled with a a large wave of unholy energy sweeping toward him. The impact sent him flying backwards and he hit the rock floor with a very audible thud._

_His thought drifted back to his friends and he whispered, "All of you, forgive me, for I have availed you nothing."_

_Then his world faded to black._

Despite all of his ideas, none were able to explain his current location. By all means he should be dead.

With a sigh he tilted his head toward the source of the light.

He had no other choice but to move forward.

In the distance, he spotted a group of hollows clad in the same red uniform that the one killed wore.

_'It seems as though they were part of some sort of organization. One that I am unfamiliar with.'_ He mused to himself.

Upon closer inspection, he notice that some of them had partially hollowed Falcons resting on their forearms.

'_So they practice Falconry it seems.'_

The Abysswalker was indeed curious, he knew of now organization that made active use of Falconry.

As he drew near them, some predictably charged him and to his surprise some of the Falcons flew straight at. One of the red clad hollows stayed in the back and fired shafts of arrows at him.

Had the Abysswalker been human, he would have most certainly have died. However he was no human, that much was given due to how easily he towered over them.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he began to focus.

Two arrows flying toward his chest in rapid succession. A slight lean back and they sailed right past him.

Three Falcons soaring furiously at his head. He bent his knees slightly and they flew just above his black plume.

Three red clad hollows charging him with their swords drawn. Grabbing his sword with both hands he bisected two just as they came within his range and as the third charged with the intent to hit him after he swung his sword, he raised his leg slightly then delivered a kick that sent the hollow tumbling over the edge of the field. Curiously enough, the Falcons after seeing their masters defeated flew off in the distance.

He them heard the familiar pull of a bow string being pulled before another arrow was sent flying toward him. With a sharp jerk to his left he dodge it, them charged the hollow. Another sweep of his sword ended it's existence.

Victory was his.

The Abysswalker sent another glance to his blade and was again grateful his weapon was not corroded like it had been at the moment of his previous demise.

Turning his head back toward the source of light, he proceed forward again.

Swift movement in the grass caught his attention. To the average human it would have just been a blur, but to him he could easily make out the image of some sort of miniature beast that was smaller than his foot. Curiously enough, some of them stopped to seem to stare at him behind the grass coverage.

They seemed passive and he would have continued to investigate had he not noticed what seemed to be a house carved into a tree further along the path. The soft glow a fireplace seemed to illuminate the windows.

Ignoring the creatures in the grass, he proceed forward. Perhaps he would be able to get some answers now.

His armor clanked heavily as he walked forward. In the back of his mind he was slightly curious on why his armor was still partially corroded, but why his sword was seemingly brand new. He could understand why his shield was missing, he left it with a close companion.

'Sif. Where could you b-'

A glimpse of red interrupted him from his thoughts. On the rock formation on both sides of the small path he walked on, scraps of red seemed to be gather in one spot before the began to form a figure.

The Abysswalker's heart seemed to stop for a second as he watched two crimson figures jump off the small cliffs and into the path in from of him.

A quick glance to his sword confirmed his speculation. His sword had been enchanted many times before to assist in destroying those affiliated with the darkness. His blade was glowing slightly blue as the two being in front of him charged.

A _cold_ fury filled his mind as he swung his blade though the phantoms, ending them completely.

'_Darkwraiths! Here?_' He thought furiously.

It seemed to him his previous efforts had failed. The one thing he hated constantly was still active or at least their unholy abilities were. He spent centuries waging his own wars against the ones who pledged themselves to the dark, the Darkwraiths.

Entire kingdoms would live in terror as the dark order would spread chaos wherever they went. They wished to bring darkness to the world he loved.

If they were here, he would dedicated himself to destroy them, wherever here was he added silently.

With no one to block his path he went straight to the house.

A small wooden fence surrounded the house, only leaving a small gap in the middle so a person could walk up small wooden steps leading to the door.

Not that it would have mattered, his sheer size made it east for him to step over the fence.

As he stood before the door, he stood there for a moment and took the time to listen for any sound. None.

The door was small and he would have to crouch to enter. Placing his finger on the small doorknob, he began to turn them push forward. A small wave of warmth greeted him as he entered.

It was a single circular room with a fireplace was in the far corner while a table sat in the very middle. In another corner a staircase led to an above floor. A small counter was against the wall and various cooking utensils adorned it.

Three elderly women dressed in burgundy robes and their hoods pulled tightly over their heads watched him enter in silence. One sat next to the burning fireplace, the other two sat by the table.

In the corner, a younger women stood by a counter making tea. Her eyes widen as she watched the gargantuan knight enter. Her hands tightened around the kettle slightly, before she realized it burnt her hand.

The three old women seemed to pause in collective silence and quick glances of their grey eyes were sent between them. They were not expecting him.

Finally one of them spoke.

"An _angel_ has come to grace us with his presence."

Her voice had flickers of veiled amusement present.

"So _far_ away from home." One began, her tone slightly mocking.

A devious smirk appeared on all of their faces.

"A boy who feared the darkness greater than his own lord." The third one finished.

They shared a small laugh.

The Abysswalker clenched his fists and beneath the blackness of his hood, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I came seeking knowledge of my present location." The Abysswalker asked. His voice was curt and betrayed no emotion. These women seemed familiar with him he noted silently in the back of his mind.

The old women then laughed, a mocking laugh. The one closest to the fireplace then spoke.

"Indeed, the great Knight Artorias is indeed very far from home."


	2. Chapter 2

Knight Artorias narrowed his eyes at the three elderly women sitting in front of him. They kept their gaze upon him, a silent amusement was hidden beneath their aged faces. While his hood cast a shadow over his face that was nearly impossible for the regular eye to penetrate, he felt as if the three crones could easily see through it.

The servant woman placed two cups of tea on the table while handing the woman by the fireplace her own tea. After a few moments of contemplation she warily offered Artorias one, who declined the offer with a slight shake of his head.

"Your presence makes us feel young again."

The other two women nodded in agreement before one of them said, "Gone are the kingdoms of old. Your own kingdom fell into the ashes of time millennia ago, your people are only a legend now."

Artorias shifted slightly, his eyes widening beneath hood. He couldn't believe it.

"Over the course of time, new ones have constantly risen up. The cycle is alway the same we suppose."

Artorias looked at the three women, his mind still reeling from the piece of information he was told.

"How is this possible? My life should have ended long ago." Artorias asked in a strained tone.

The three women cackled again as if he told them a joke.

"Unknown to all of us. Your visit is as much of a surprise to us, as it is to you. Fate saw it fit for you to continue living." One of them responded.

Artorias dipped his head slightly in thought.

'_This can't be possible. This has to be some form of trickery by the Abyss...'_

Artorias shook his head furiously. He would have sensed if he was under the dark influence of the Abyss. He would have to keep on pressing for answers.

"How much of Lordran is still remembered? How do you know of me of it has been so long? Certainly my legacy would have fell to the sands of time when compared to the rest of my knights." He asked.

The three women exchanged a glance before one by the table answered.

"Your kingdom and your own legacy are most certainly forgotten by a majority of the people in Drangleic."

Artorias grimaced slight and took in that piece of information.

'_Drangleic... So that is what this place is called.' _The Abysswalker mused.

"However there is no denying that you outshine all of your companions. We were not born in your era, so we know little of what transpired in your time." One of the other women spoke.

The three women nodded in agreement before the one closest to the fireplace spoke again.

"When we were just children, we read stories detailing four great knights serving a lord who ruled the power of the sun. The books never have the names of the other three and only referred to them as The Lion, The Hawk, and The Hornet. Only you had your name actually mentioned."

Then another woman spoke in what could pass as excitement for the old woman.

"A knight in shining armor who held back the endless tides of darkness. A brave knight who travelled alone in the darkness and rescued a princess and slayed a beast so foul, that no mortal could bare it's presence. The great knight Artorias who died in service to his lord. Such a tale fascinated all of us as mere children."

The three women laughed again.

Artorias stared at them silently. His mind reeling from all the information he was given. He was a knight without a kingdom. His entire life revolved around combat and with no kingdom to serve, he was left with two options.

Pursue the life of a mercenary or continue his own silent crusade against the dark.

Artorias shook his head furiously. To become a mercenary would be a disgrace to the memory of his kingdom. He did not fight for money. There was still darkness darkness in this land, the phantoms were proof of it.

"What is the state of the land right now?" Artorias asked.

The three woman looked at him in curiosity, their smirks ever present on their faces.

"All people come here for the same reason. To break their curse." One spoke.

Instantly Artorias knew she was referring to the curse of undeath that plagued humans even in his time. The three women them began to speak, one right after the other.

"You're no undead. Perhaps you do stand a chance."

"Bring order to this fallen kingdom perhaps."

"Whatever you choose to do now is up to you. Just remember one last thing Abysswalker, you only have _one_ life now."

Suddenly the women broke out into another cackle.

'_Only have one life...' A_rtorias mused.

After the women finished their inane laughter, Artorias approached them and bowed, then said, "Your assistance has been most welcome. Thank you."

With that Artorias crawled out the door.

He proceeded to walk out into a small wooden cave, before he walked out of that.

The light he saw previously was shining down on him and he could see a the crack from which the light poured out from. He observed his surrounding as he walked toward the crack.

High grass reached his ankles as he walked on a narrow land bridge surrounded by trees. Holes in the trees offered various pathways to walk through, but his path was straight.

Upon approaching the crack in the rock wall, he realized that he could barely squeeze through. Metal plates grinded furiously against solid stone as he moved slowly forward.

Suddenly the light turned to a warm orange and a similar feeling of warmth spread through him. The sound of waves crashing against rock reached his ears, along with the rustle of grass as the wind slowly cut through it.

Then he was out of the crack and facing an ocean. Slowly he walked to the edge of the cliff and just collapsed to his knees. His sword was still gripped tightly in his hand as the orange sun reflected off the slightly blue blade.

In the distant horizon he watched the sun slowly descend into the blue ocean. White clouds floated gracefully forward in stark contrast to the sinking sun.

In truth, the Abysswalker took a minute to realize this was his first time he ever seen the glorious liquid expanse known as an ocean. He had never seen water in such abundance when in Lordran as the place was landlocked.

Suddenly he looked down the cliff and the ocean lost it's blue tint. Instead the water turned darker as he look straight down, complete darkness.

'_Just like the Abyss...'_

With a shake he slowly rose to his feet. He was standing on a hill overlooking a very small village. An obelisk stood tall on the very edge of the town, just overlooking the ocean below.

As Artorias entered the town, he was quick to note that it was completely empty on the streets. Rather the dirt path that served as a road before the rest of it turned to grass.

A majority of the buildings were clustered around a gaping circular hole, while a small shack stood alone directly adjacent to a fire pit. A rapidly hollowing man sat against the wall of the stone shack looking at Artorias carefully. Next to the fire pit, a woman clad in an emerald cloak stood with her hands behind her back as she watched the waves crash against the cliff.

"You're one big bastard." A course voice declared to Artorias.

Startled by the sudden noise, Artorias turned to see the man against the wall looking at him. His skin was cracked in multiple places and his skin was a shade of dark green. His eyes were completely white and almost seemed to be glowing from the shadows of the building. Long black strands of hair served as his beard. This man really was hollowing rapidly.

A long black leather apron hung over his white under shirt. The man Undead was a blacksmith.

Artorias stared at him for moment.

"Are you mute." He asked.

Before Artorias could answer, the man said, "No matter, help me open this door."

With that the man slammed his fist against the door in frustration. He then said, "The place was vacant when I found it and seeing, that I packed my tools inside. Damn fool I was, some bastard locked the door on me."

Artorias took a moment to study the door. He had no doubt he could easily smash it inwards, but decided against it. Destruction of property was a serious offense in Anor Londo, he wasn't sure if the same applied here.

"Do you possess a key?" Artorias finally asked.

The blacksmith stopped and stared at the heavily armored knight, before saying, "You can talk? That's a pleasant surprise. There was keys to this door, but I can't find the damn things now. I would appreciate it of you could help me find them."

Artorias nodded and said, "I'll keep my eyes open for them."

"Thanks, the name's Lenigrast." The Undead said before sticking out his hand.

The Abysswalker stared down at the hand, before he gingerly took it and shook. He knew this was a form of human greeting.

"Artorias." He said after a moment of hesitation.

"Well Artorias, you get me my keys and I'll repair anything you need." Lenigrast declared, his eyes seemed to be drifting to Artorias's sword.

The Abysswalker just nodded then turned away.

His eyes drifted to the fire pit. A small bonfire was burning brightly in the middle. His eyes flickered in recognition. The bonfire was commonly used by Undead as the flames were said to be able to heal any injury, even death.

His eyes them drifted to the woman in the emerald cloak. Her body was faced away from him. Her hand were crossed behind he back as she seemingly watched the ocean down below.

In the back or Artorias mind, he could feel something nagging him about the emerald woman.

'_She is no regular human, I sense power in her.' _Artorias thought as he took a step forward.

Behind him, his torn azure cape drifted slightly in the wind. The heavy clanking of his armor caused the woman to turn around.

Artorias took the moment to study the woman more.

Her hair was auburn and was mostly covered by her green hood. He face was set in a grimace and curiously enough, her hair covered on eye. She was young and could be considered beautiful to any being.

'_Nothing on Ciaran though...' T_he Abysswalker thought.

Unlike most others he met so far, the woman in the emerald cloak did not react at all to his imposing figure.

She merely stared back at his abysmal hood.

"You who does not bear the curse, could you be the next monarch?" She finally said.

Artorias just looked down at the woman in confusion.

* * *

><p>Longer chapters will come next time. Just trying something this time.<p>

_**-Tokyo Express**_


	3. Chapter 3

Artorias stared down at the woman in the emerald cloak in confusion. Next monarch? He then felt the sudden urge to chuckle, but refrained from doing so. He was a knight, not a king. His place was on the battlefield, not the throne.

Despite his amusement, he felt a certain degree of wariness take hold as he looked at the woman. Despite her external appearance as a young human woman, Artorias found himself thinking otherwise. Her eyes were those of someone who has lived ages and has seen many things.

_'A firekeeper perhaps?'_ The Abysswalker thought suddenly.

Everything he knew about firekeepers matched this woman. His thoughts were interrupted as she spoke again.

"For years I have waited for someone like you to arrive. Far too long has this kingdom been in the darkness. Brave knight, perhaps you can bring hope to this kingdom?"

The Abysswalker stared at the woman in confusion again. This kingdom was not his own, however one thing interested him.

"Darkness?" He questioned.

The woman in the emerald cloak stared at him again. A brief flicker of emotion flashed across her face before her expression settled back to normal. Anger? Or was it fear? She then took a small step forward. Artorias felt the urge to lay his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he didn't.

She then whispered a single phrase.

"The Queen."

The Abysswalker tilted his head in slight confusion. The woman in the emerald cloak suddenly glanced away from him toward the forest blanketing the hills further inland. Artorias followed her glance and found what she glanced at.

In the distance a storm was raging high above in the mountains. Beneath the dark clouds and the rain it released, a black castle stood veiled in the storm. Only the brief flashes of lightning made the black structure visible. It was the polar opposite of the shining citadel of Anor Londo, the symbol of hope and power in his own lands. The black castle seemed to be a twisted and darker mockery of the place he once called home.

The Abysswalker felt a sudden chill go through his body. As he stared at the dark castle, he felt as if something was staring right back at him. A sense of terrible familiarity overcame him before fading swiftly. His mind drifted back to what the woman in the emerald cloak said.

'_The Queen.'_

Then it dawned on him what the woman in emerald wanted him to do.

"You wish for me to eliminate the queen?" He asked.

A single nod was what he received for confirmation.

Artorias was unaware of all the policies and laws of Drangleic, but he was absolutely sure this sort of conversation would mark them both for death if anyone ever found out. It certainly would in Anor Londo. Being crushed to death by an executioner who killed each victim with barely concealed glee was something that easily warded off dissenters.

In the mind of the Abysswalker, even if the queen turned out to be a genocidal tyrant he would not intervene. His first priority was to obtain more knowledge of the surrounding lands and find anything related to his old kingdom. Yet he still couldn't shake that feeling of dread as stared at the dark castle. He felt a familiar sense of dread as it seemed to stare back at him. He still needed knowledge.

"Perhaps I will." He stated simply, his mind wandering toward the castle.

To her credit, the woman in the emerald cloak did not react in the slightest to his answer.

"Very well. Explore this land and come back to me after you have seen the darkness." She stated cryptically.

Before the Abysswalker could question her, she turned away sharply. The emerald cloak waving gently in the breeze as she moved back toward the bonfire. With a sigh, Artorias looked to the black obelisk on the very edge of the cliff. It easily towered over his own, much less the undead in the small and broken down village.

An armored figure sat at the very base of the obelisk overlooking the stairs leading up to it. A small claymore, from Artorias's perspective at least, was laid on the man's lap. His eyes were hollow and null of emotions. Artorias knew this kind of person as he had seen it before on countless battlefields. The eyes of someone who knew defeat all too well.

Upon closer inspection, the man's face was covered in grime and deep wrinkles lined his face. His eyes appeared to have been sunken in and his black hair was swept back. A small and barely visible scar ran up his chin to his left cheekbone.

Various dents and scratches covered a majority of his armor. He was no stranger to combat perhaps. The slightly worn but still sharp blade of his claymore only proved it.

Artorias kept his eyes focused on the man as he ascended the steps, while the armored man met his gaze with his own void one.

"Greetings stranger and welcome to Majula, the only settlement resembling normal life in these accursed lands." The man spoke. His voice was soft and had a slightly rasp undertone.

Artorias nodded in response then said, "Artorias."

He wasn't known to be the most talkative of the Four Knights of Gywn. In fact the entire group was rather quiet, with the exception of Hawkeye Gough. But even he was seldom to speak.

The armored man also nodded in response before saying, "I am Saulden. Once a proud and admittedly foolish knight seeking glory, now I am simply just a tired old fool. It is to be expected I suppose."

Artorias only smirked beneath his hood and said, "We're all born fools, it's only a matter of whether we realize it or not."

Saulden let out a small chuckle in response and said, "Very true. I have lost everything for the sake of this adventure. Only now do I realize my mistake. Now I ask what is your purpose here?"

The man leaned forward and his eyes focused completely on the Abysswalker. Artorias paused and pondered for a second. His gaze focused on the steadily setting sun.

'What is my purpose?' He thought.

A knight without a kingdom was what he was. It irked him how vulnerable he felt without one. His only really option was to continue forward, perhaps he would find something to bring him peace. That's what he would pursue.

He tore his gaze from the setting sun and said, "I only seek peace."

Saulden said nothing and continued to stare at Artorias. The human warrior let out a small chuckle then said.

"Then I wish you luck on your journey. Two paths lead away from this haven, the one by the bonfire will lead you to the Forest of Giants and eventually to a fortress once manned by the army of Vendrick. The path by the far gate leads to Heide's Tower of Flame. The gate is locked and I don't expect it to move anytime soon."

The Abysswalker looked to his left and saw the imposing fortress high above in the cliffs. That's where he would start.

"You have my thanks friend." Artorias said.

"That is what I do now. Offer advice to those foolish enough to tread these lands alone." Saulden said with no real conviction behind his voice.

The Abysswalker nodded in thanks, then turned around to leave.

Behind him he heard Saulden say, "May you find peace on your journey."

Any human would not hear what the man whispered after, but Artorias was no human and he could hear it clearly.

"Find your peace, as I never could find mine."

The Abysswalker frowned, but kept silent. He would not fail.

* * *

><p><em>My apologies for the lack of updates. My health has not been in the best shape lately and the condition required my absolute and full attention. Only recently were we able to make it tolerable. Enough of that though.<em>

_I didn't bother proof reading this for errors. Most of you probably realize I usually don't care enough to go back and fix them, only to attempt to improve them next time around._

_My apologies if this chapter seems rather dull and the characters OOC. I just want to get out of Majula._

_I'm curious, what are most people looking forward to seeing in this story interaction/reaction wise?_

_**-Tokyo Express**_


	4. Chapter 4

The Forest of Fallen Giants was a rather eerie place Artorias decided as he first stepped inside it. Huge trees gnarled in their appearance covered the landscape. Brown leaves covered the moss green forest floor while the occasional decomposing corpse of a wild animal would come across his path. The orange sky gave the forest a rather ominous appearance. The shadows of trees and rocks were cast in all directions, while the gentle wind would rustle the leaves placing the Abysswalker on slight edge.

A crumbling stone fortress could be seen in the distance overlooking the forest, and provided a decaying symbol of power that once existed in the lands. This land was _seemingly_ desolate and devoid of life. However the undead weren't exactly proper symbols of a vigorous life. The Abysswalker could see armored figures shambling around the fortification with no sense of cohesion.

A small stream of gently flowing water was on his left. The sound of the water brought forth a sense of familiarity in the ancient knight. Streams and rivers were common in Lordran and often served as stopping points for many of his own quests. Without hesitation he walked to the edge of the stream and knelt just above the surface of the water. With both hands he scooped water in his gauntlets and splashed it on his face. A cool sensation hit him as the liquid began to drip off.

_Sif used to love the water._ He thought, slowly letting memories of the young grey wolf fill his mind.

The memory of the canine playing in the streams surrounding the city of Anor Londo. He remembered the harsh struggle of having to forcefully remove the wolf from the water and the look of absolute betrayal Sif gave him as he did so. The wolf did forgive him after being brought back good from the kitchens, an endeavor the Abysswalker vowed he would never again undertake. The chefs of Lord Gywn's citadel guarded all foodstuffs with more energy than his own knights on night watch.

The expedition into the kitchens was worth it however. The simple joy a wolf could have while devouring some of the best cooked meats in the land was astounding, yet oddly comforting.

A smile found it's way across his face followed by a bitter sense of loneliness.

_Those were the happy time were they not Sif?_ Artorias thought sadly.

He wondered what the fate of all his former companions.

Ciaran the Hornet? He briefly saw the assassin in the citadel of Anor Londo the night before before he departed for Ooliacile. Despite having opposite roles on the battlefield, their relationship was quite _close_. Some of his own knights speculated they seemed too close and would often make harmless jibes at the two of them. Neither the swordsman nor assassin confirmed not denied anything.

Hawkeye Gough, arguable the best archer in the land went missing weeks prior to the Abysswalker's fatal mission to Oolicile. Many of scouts for the kingdom seemed to report a giant wandering around Oolicile before all reports from the accursed place ceased. Artorias made it his secondary objective to located the archer. He never did. The fate of the giant was unknown to him. He only wished the giant was spared from the horrible fate the rest of the town suffered.

Finally his mind drifted towards Dragonslayer Ornstein. The fabled captain of the Four Knights of Gywn and commander of all forces in the kingdom. The Abysswalker remembered his as prideful, noble, and very strict. He was the knight everyone wished to be. From what Artorias remembered of that time, the Dragonslayer seemed to be spending far more time with their lord, planning something.

The Abysswalker remembered the Lord of Sunlight becoming more reclusive, often spending more time in the throne alone. The exact reason was unknown to him as he departed the city finding out.

Then suddenly he paused.

The Abysswalker stood up and pondered.

_Is this real?_ He thought bitterly.

His memories before arriving were hazy at best. As if he was waking up from a dream. He remembered the Abyss spawned beast seemingly end him. Was this all a dream? Some sort of cruel nightmare?

_Wicked Abyssal sorcery perhaps?_

The option seemed very valid to him. The Abyss was insidious in the ways it could corrupt a being.

_No. To what purpose would it serve? Does it even need purpose?_

A snapping of a branch brought him back to his senses. His head snapped toward the sound while his armored hand reached for his massive sword.

It was another group of hollows_ shambling _towards him.

They wore thick and heavily padded leather armor, which despite being worn and rotting in various places was mostly intact. Steel helmets adorned their heads. Steel short swords were held firmly in their gloved hands, while rotting wooden shield or what remained of them were held loosely in front of them. These were no doubt the foot soldiers of a _once _proud kingdom.

The Abysswalker could see the _years_ of accumulated filth on each blade. Several years of dust, dirt, blood, rust, and all sorts of things made the blades worn beyond use.

Despite their hollowing, Artorias could see what could pass as some sort of primitive determination in their eyes. White pupil less eyes glared up at him. Knight Artorias felt some respect towards these once soldiers. Even on the brink of madness and with the grasp of undeath holding them, they would still carry out their duties.

Despite them not having the capacity to recognize the meaning behind it, Artorias bowed his head slightly.

Then with sword in hand he charged.

The undead soldiers easily had around thirty in number. Disregarding their current state, the Abysswalker could see the years of practiced motion in their swings and stabs.

However all would fall before the Abysswalker's sword.

The massive silver blade easily cleaved through their armor. Shields were left to splintered and swords were broken.

He stood in front of them. A simple swing to his left would send limbs flying. While in turn his right leg would sweep downward and send the remaining to the floor. He could feel their blades attempting to stab his leg, to make a dent in his armor. It was to know avail.

The Abysswalker knew his moves reeked of arrogance. In his mind he could hear the voices Ciaran, Lord Gywn, Ornstein, and every other knight he knew criticizing him. Had those swords been in a better state, he may have damaged or perhaps lost a leg. He paid no heed however, the thrill of combat had taken over.

His sword was raised high above in the air from his previous swing's momentum. He then let it descended upon the fallen hollows. The single swing was all he needed to end the rest of them. To any obscure viewer he would seem like the angel of death reaping recently collected souls.

Victory was his.

Artorias then heard more footsteps approach. His recent quarrel seemingly brought out more the undead soldiers. Artorias could see them spanning the entirety of the riverbed. Each mindlessly shambling forward in his general direction. Some seemed to be able to endure a light jog.

They all seemed ready to fight. A fight Artorias was all too eager to give.

* * *

><p>The Abysswalker let out a sigh of relief as he walked through the corridors of the fortress. He speculated he slain nearly a hundred of the undead soldiers. A small feat, but one he wasn't exactly used too. The average human would have great difficult fighting Artorias or any of his fellow knights. These hollows were barely a threat, serving more as a distraction than an actual threat.<p>

However the Abysswalker knew better than to simply disregard them. Anything could become a factor in which would lead to ones downfall. Best to treat all threats, no matter how minor, seriously. It was still hard for him though.

The inside of the fortress was barren and crumbling. A husk of its former glory. Tattered banners adorned walls, dust acclimated everywhere, and nature seemed to grow alongside the walls of the fort. Massive trees seemed to grow in any open area, often breaking through cracks in the ground.

He wondered what the history of this fort was. The fading signs of a deadly marked each corner. Walls were broken, old blood nearly in every room, and occasional corpse manning a ballista.

He found no signs of invaders, save for a single hollowed knight clad in white armor sitting beneath one of the many trees. The knight was not aggressive to the Abysswalker and he had a hard time believing he was an undead. The only indication being the amount of arrows sticking out of the knights body.

For an odd reason Artorias doubted the man in white was one of the assailants of the fortress. He found no similar knights and most of the corpses he found seemed have been_ crushed _or _thrown_. Curious. Curious indeed.

_Perhaps some manner of beasts?_

The answer would seemingly remain unknown to Artorias.

He sent a brief glance to afternoon sky. The orange haze was only interrupted by the occasional cloud. He couldn't see the sun as a wall blocked it.

He remembered enjoying the sunsets in Anor Londo immensely. The city was designed in such a way that it would seem to illuminate upon contact with sunlight. He would often catch Ornstein watching the sun set from one of the balconies in the citadel.

It was a habit he remembered the Dragonslayer had. In the mornings he would watch the sun rise and in the afternoon he would watch it fall. Each of the four knights had developed strange habits over the centuries. Watching the sun rise and set was Ornstein's.

The Abysswalker hoped his friend died under the sun. Peace was something the captain needed.

Slightly movement in his peripheral vision suddenly caught his attention. Something was flying overhead.

What Artorias saw caused his eyes to widen and his jaw to drop slightly. The largest bird he had ever seen was circling the fort. That wasn't what caught his attention.

Underneath the bird, an armored figure was be carried by the bird. Weapons of all sorts hung from the backside of the being. An enormous shield was strapped to its arm, easily half the size of the thing. The figure seemed to be looking down at the surface, as if searching for something. Beneath it's visor two glowing red eyes glowed.

Artorias felt great unease as the eyes passed over him. The armored being tilted it's head in apparent confusion as it looked upon the Abysswalker. Slowly Artorias began to reach for the hilt of his sword. He knew danger when he saw it. A silent standoff was held between them.

A sudden screech from the bird caused the being's head to turn to another direction. They seemed to have found something in the distance. The bird then flew into the opposite direction.

What happened next confused Artorias even bird dropped the armored man from what was easily above fifty meters in the air.

As expected the armored being plummeted to the surface.

The Abysswalker felt his eyes narrow. The fall would have easily killed any human. But Artorias knew that thing wasn't human. He could feel it. Those eyes were not human. Artorias was unsure of what it was. He added to the list of things he needed to investigate.

Taking notice of the direction in which the thing was dropped, Artorias proceeded to run forward.

_Strange lands indeed._

_**I am alive. Well mostly. Up above there is supposed to be a divider, but I can't seem to place one. **_

_**I envy anyone with an actual fucking computer they used for this shit. Fanfiction mobile is the buggiest shit for uploading stories. Then again I really shouldn't be expecting much.o**__**LScholar of the First Sin changed a few things in terms of enemies, lore, things. In terms of enemies, I will stick to what I am familiar with or what I like better. Lore, well I'll do that as I go along. So read, review, do whatever the hell you want. **_

_**- Tokyo Express**_


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